Just Another Day
by beyondthesea1
Summary: Harry's had it with the routine. Is it time to make a change?


_Author's note: This story previously appeared on Uncharted Waters. _

**JUST ANOTHER DAY**

Opening the door to his cabin, Harriman Nelson walked inside, still faintly aware that he smelled: of electrical smoke and burnt insulation and sweat. He really needed a shower, a shave and a clean uniform and, quite frankly, a new profession. But, as the door closed behind him and he fell into his chair, he just didn't have the energy to get undressed.

Realizing that it was his first opportunity to sit down all day, he propped one leg up, felt the twinge in his left hip where flesh and bone had earlier impacted with an unyielding circuitry panel, and lit a cigarette.

Bringing the cigarette up, he noticed the cuff to elbow tear in the right sleeve of his shirt and the dried blood matted in the hairs on his arm. Thinking back, he recalled catching the fabric on some wiring but hadn't remembered cutting himself too. He'd wash the wound later, when he got up enough energy to get into the shower.

On second thought, the chair certainly was comfortable and he was getting used to the smell.

Stretching his back then fingering the lump on his head where he had collided with the bulkhead after seaman Pulaski had gone berserk and tried to brain him with a wrench, he wondered just how much longer he could take all this.

Today had become like every other day for Admiral Nelson: monsters dredged up from the bottom of the sea, alien invasions, possessed senior officers, sabotage in the insert critical room here, toys gone psycho—one crisis after another and all demanding his attention. Although he would never admit to being old, he certainly wasn't twenty any more. His recovery time from the aches and pains that came along with saving the world on a daily basis just wasn't what it used to be.

Taking one extremely therapeutic drag off the cigarette and flipping back the page on the calendar, he registered the date. August 31st. Today had been his birthday and neither he nor anyone else had noticed.

"Just another day," he said to no one in particular.

Taking another long drag and leaning his head back against the leather chair, he blew smoke rings into the air then closed his eyes and couldn't help but think about how much his back hurt. By tomorrow he knew he'd barely be able to move. Too bad they were still at sea another three weeks.

His mood lifted considerably as he recalled the last time his back had given him problems and he had seen a lovely chiropractor named Nancy. After much prodding on his part, she had finally acquiesced to his dinner invitation and later, showed him a few new "adjustments". Yes, he would definitely need to give her a call when they got back to Santa Barbara.

Seconds later, Chief Sharkey's voice interrupted his moment. _"Admiral, can you come to the Control Room right away?"_

Nelson wearily reached for the mike and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Captain Crane noticed some smoke coming from one of the consoles. He asked if you could take a look at it."

His exasperation was apparent now. "Well, get a fire detail on it."

"It looks like it's that wiring problem again, the one you told us not to mess with."

Rolling his eyes, he said, "All right, all right. I'm on my way."

Mashing out his cigarette and hauling his tired body out of the chair, he headed for the door. "I'm getting too old for this."

oooooo

As he headed down the corridor he could see it: a strange orange glow. Quickening his pace, he was nearly running as he cleared the coaming and barreled into the Control Room only to find just about every crew member crowded into the space.

"What is this?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by the sight. "I smell smoke. Is something on fire?"

"Your cake," Lee Crane said, appearing at this side and ushering Nelson through the parting crowd to the large sheet cake sitting on the plot table, ablaze with candles. "You'd better blow them out before the fire alarms go off."

"One would have sufficed," Nelson replied with a mock frown, as he took a deep breath and proceeded to blow out more than half of the fifty flames.

"See," Doc chimed in from behind Chip Morton, "if you'd quit smoking like I told you to, you could have blown all of them out."

"Considering the amount of electrical smoke I've inhaled today, you're lucky I managed any at all."

Before Doc and Nelson had a chance to exchange words, Crane interrupted by leading the crew in a loud, slightly off-key chorus of "Happy Birthday" while Nelson both laughed and cringed at the racket.

oooooo

Standing off to one side with his slice of cake, acknowledging the passing birthday wishes from each crew member, Admiral Nelson thought about his earlier mood.

Yes, it had been a terrible day, a carbon copy of so many other days, and, as Lee had not so politely pointed out, he did still smell. But this day had somehow turned out a little differently, not because it was his birthday and someone had remembered, but because it made him realize that this was his life. Sure, sometimes the days blended together, but this was the path he had chosen so many years ago and he wouldn't have changed a thing.

-Fin-


End file.
